Armistice
by CrayonDreamer
Summary: "I-Italy..." Germany choked out. The date was April 30th, 1945. It'd been approximately 2 years, four months and 8 days since he had last seen the little Italian. Not since the Armistice pact with the Allies, and he had declared war on him. Gerita


**A/N: I know I'm not the only one who was depressed when they remembered that Italy left the Axis Powers, if only for fandom reasons XD So, this is for the sake of our sanity : D**

**Oh yeah, and the song is World So Cold by 12 Stones; which I do not own, along with Hetalia :p**

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_It starts with pain_

_Followed by hate_

_Fuelled by the endless questions_

_No one can answe_r

The small young man's uniform was a little bit too big for him. His helmet fell over his eyes, shadowing his face. The gun in his hands- unfitting. He stood in the middle of a barren muddy plain, seemly going on forever, beyond the walls of heavy rain. Slightly shaking, he gripped the gun tighter. He didn't want to be there, it was plain to see. But still, his damned leader forced him too- and so there he was. Thunder rolled through the clouds above.

_A stain covers your heart_

_And tears you apart just like_

_A sleeping cancer_

"I-Italy..." Germany choked out. The date was April 30th, 1945. It'd been approximately 2 years, four months and 8 days since he had last seen the little Italian. Not since the Armistice pact with the Allies, and he had declared war on him.

_I don't believe men are born to be killers_

_I don't believe the world can't be saved_

At every Battle, the soldiers were there, but he wasn't. He never showed his face in public. One would say it was cowardice- but no one knew Italy like he did. Truly, Italy was not a coward. He was a lover, not a fighter. The white flag and tries of 'I surrender' were nothing more than his own way to stop the fighting, even if it was just for a little while. He acted like a goof-ball because he was trying to teach everyone that you could be happy without the 'world conquest' nonsense- that, and it was just the way he was. He cried when in the face of danger because he mourned the evil of the world. No, Italy was not a coward. But then...

_How did you get here and when did it start?_

"Italy... why?" Germany asked, pleaded his old friend.

Italy did not respond. Only clutched his weapon tighter. His breathing came in short gasps through gritted teeth. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek, but his eyes were still hidden.

"Ita-"

_And innocent child with a thorn in his heart._

"Germania ... Mi dispiace così tanto ... io non voglio..." He whispsered in his native tongue. And with that, he found himself charging at the man he once called his best friend- still did. He swung his gun at the German's head, who quickly and easily dodged it. Italy just kept swinging, jabbing at Germany, but never once did he fire.

_What kind of world do we live in?_

"Italy, stop!" Germany shouted as he narrowly dodged every attempt to land a hit. Surprisingly, Italy was keeping up with him, though he could never truely hit him. The time the Italian nation had spent with the Allies had proved to strengthen him. That could be considered good or bad in the situation they were in.

_Where love is divided by hate._

"Stop this Italy! Ita-" He grabbed the gun in his hands, gerking him to a stop. "Feliciano!"

_Losing control of our feelings._

Italy froze, his head snapping up, wide eyed, to gaze up at his friend as a flash of lightening illuminated thier faces. He had used his human name, something anyone rarely did. It was a sign of complete trust, companionship, loyalty- but the last thing Italy had been to him was loyal. Still, there was something in his deep blue eyes that told him he knew he didn't want to be there. He held onto that hope.

_We all must be dreaming this life away._

"L-Ludwig..." He choked before collapsing into Germany's ready arms, sobbing uncontrolably before thier knees hit the ground.

_In a world so cold..._

"I'm so sorry Ludwig! I didn't want to do it!" Feliciano sobbed into his friend's chest, clinging desparatly to him.

"Then why?"

"T-they had mio fratello, Romano. And the Allies, they convinsed my new boss to join them. Not that I'm upset that...bastard Mussolini is dead. I hated him. And I hate your boss, and I just hate this whole god damn war!" He screetched. Germany was taken back by the pure hatred and despair in his tone. It was rare to hear North Italy to talk that way about anything or anyone.

"Ja..." Was all he really needed to say to get his point across. He hated his boss, Adolf Hitler, to no end. Germany was fighting to protect his country, to bring it back to it's former glory. Hitler was fighting for dominance, for damned 'racial purity', as he called it. He brainwashed an entire nation, manipulated them for his own sick game. But Germany, as the nation itself, could do nothing but watch and stuggle as he grew in power. It was torture. And the green police, the nazis, the bombs, the blitz, the concentration camps and thier screams, oh god thier screams...

"Ludwig!" Italy shouted, holding the blonde's face in his hands. It was only then that he realized that he had been thinking out loud, crying for the sins of his nation. "I-It's okay! I know you aren't like that..."

"No, it's not okay, Feliciano!" Germany snapped. "I can hear them, I-I can feel them dying...and I can't make it stop, because I'm fighting against myself. I can't undo everything I've done." He whispered through gritted teeth. "With every passing moment, I can feel him growing stronger, and myself growing weaker."

"W-what are you saying?" Feliciano asked, his entire being filled with fear.

"I'm saying that when a nation changes completely, in ideals, in power, in every way, the nation it once was ceases to exist." He said softly, dreading every word that came out of his mouth because he knew it was true. "I would disappear..."

"No!" Italy screethed, throwing his arms around the larger nation as if he really would disappear any second. Germany slowly returned the embrace, holding him closer, clutching his only sanity left. "No, you can't leave! First Grandpa Rome, the Holy Roman Empire... you can't leave! I won't let you!" He sobbed.

Holy Roman Empire... whenever he heard that name, an empty space in Lugwig's mind throbbed, begging to be filled with something that was long gone. He felt remorse, regret, sadness... but that wasn't important at the moment. What was important was the boy clinging to him like the world was crashing down around them.

"Feliciano... I can't-" Germany gasped sharply, as if just punched in the stomache, and it felt like he had been. A weight that had been bearing down on him ever since Hitler came to power suddenly disappeared. His eyes widdened to disbelief, completely unaware of the worried boy calling out his name in panic.

"L-Ludwig, what's wrong?" Italy cried.

"I-It's the Battle of Berlin. Hitler...he's, he's... dead." He choked between breathes. Looking up, he found two golden orbs, just as wide as his own. A hopeful smile graced the his face. "It's over..."

And Germany cried.

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**I know this probably isn't historically accurate, but I just wanted my fluff so GTFO : D**


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